


P is for Parseltongue

by chupachupa



Series: P is for Parseltongue [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28770912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chupachupa/pseuds/chupachupa
Summary: Ginny accidentally left Tom Riddle's diary in her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. A seemingly small pebble thrown in the lake makes big ripples.A.K.A Harry's just trying to enjoy his peaceful life and embraces being a Parselmouth to sell pet snakes.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: P is for Parseltongue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2109501
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, this is my first foray into fanfiction. Be gentle!
> 
> This fic isn't beta'd but it has been run through Grammarly. Let me know if you spot any mistakes. Please note I'm using British English spelling, so don't @ me if "color is spelled wrong!". No, it really isn't.
> 
> Also please give me a heads up if there are some extra tags I could add.

To the many creatures who called the Magical Menagerie their home, there was nothing to distinguish this morning from any other. The early morning sunlight streaming through the window refracted off the jewel-encrusted shell of a gigantic tortoise, causing small patches of colour to glimmer off the nearby tanks and ceiling. There were cawing ravens, meowing cats, croaking toads, squeaking rats, hissing snakes and all manner of strange and unusual creatures vying for the attention of the young shopkeeper sweeping the floor. They eagerly followed him with their eyes, hoping that the cacophony of noise and rattling cages would hurry him into distributing their breakfasts more quickly.

To the young man himself, the day was only slightly momentous for it marked his third year working at the Magical Menagerie. He was far more preoccupied with thoughts of the weekend when he would have an early celebration for his twenty-first birthday. As he filled bowls of kibble and shook dead insects out of boxes, he mused that it was a remarkable thing for him to have reached such a milestone, for he was Harry Potter (and even he would have doubted he'd live to see his twenty-first birthday if asked, given the events of the past few years).

" _More mice, ssspeaker... we ssshall sssurley ssstarve without more mice..._ " hissed a small, brown grass snake as Harry passed the large tank. 

" _Oh no, you can't fool me,_ " replied Harry with a grin, " _I fed you only two sunsets ago._ "

In response, the snake let out a wordless hiss and writhed on the heated rock as if in great pain. "Drama queen" Harry muttered to himself in English.

" _Ssspeaker, free me from this glass box. I yearn for freedom!_ " called a blue and orange striped spitting snake, rearing up and reaching for the lip of the tank.

" _Alright,_ " Harry sighed. " _But just for a bit, and you better not spit at the customers again_ " he warned sternly, even as he held out his arm for the snake to climb up. It settled around his shoulders, tongue scenting the air in curiosity. With an amused huff, Harry unlocked the shop door, turned the sign to 'Open', and went to stand behind the counter. 

He'd just finished setting up the cash register when a sudden "OH!" made him jump and whip around. "Really, Harry! Give an old woman some warning before you drape yourself in those infernal snakes!" admonished Mrs Howell, the owner of the Magical Menagerie and Harry's boss. She was a short witch with a commanding presence, which she had once said to Harry was required for dealing with crafty creatures and the occasional curmudgeonly customer. She wore simple, robust robes and a pair of heavy black spectacles.

"Sorry, Mrs Howell, I didn't mean to startle you," said Harry.

"Apology accepted. Now go put the kettle on, lad" she said.

The morning passed quietly. Harry cleaned out some cages, played with the animals (the kneazles, in particular, were little terrors if not kept suitably entertained) and chatted with a young boy who was looking for his first pet to take to Hogwarts in a few months.

"Smart of you to get yours early" commented Harry. "It gives you time to bond and get used to caring for them before you're distracted with learning magic".

The boy puffed up proudly and dragged his father up and down the length of the shop as he peered into cages. Eventually, he chose a ginger tabby kitten, and his father shot a relieved look at the basket as they paid, having kept a wide berth from the snake tank as they browsed.

Harry had only just stepped through the door, returning from his lunch break, when Mrs Howell cried "Oh good, you're back! Jimmy's crup is whelping and he needs a hand, be a dear and mind the shop won't you?" With that, a frantic Mrs Howell rushed passed him without waiting for a response. Harry didn't mind, as he was plenty experienced by now with Mrs Howell leaving him alone suddenly. They had developed an unspoken routine; Harry would open up the shop and care for the animals in the day, and Mrs Howell would check in on them after closing as she lived in the flat above the shop. She'd be back by nightfall to check on the creatures.

Despite the lively start, the afternoon passed in a similar peaceful mood as the morning. It wasn't until half-past four that anything remotely interesting happened. A wizard entered the shop and strode purposefully up to the counter, wrapped his knuckles against it and brusquely enquired "Harry Potter?"

"Yes?" replied Harry.

"The Senior Undersecretary to the Minister summons you to a meeting. Tomorrow in his office, three o'clock sharp" said the wizard. He glanced at the cage of rats doing handstands with disdain.

"May I know _why_ I've been summoned?" asked Harry, matching the wizard's abrupt tone.

The unidentified wizard harrumphed. "I believe he has use of your particular... _skill,_ " he said, and with that, he turned and made for the door.

"But why? He's a parselmouth too!" called Harry to the retreating wizard.

"Just don't be late!" snapped the wizard, before closing the door with a snap.

Amongst the gentle chirrups, croaks and caws, Harry stood and processed the odd occurrence, until finally, heaving a great sigh, he said to himself "Well, crap."

"Mrrrroww!" responded a kneazle.

"Oh shut it, you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a small jump back in time to 6th year. I might do this one or two more times before switching back to linear story-telling. I'm not sure how long this story will be (probably short) or how often I'll update (likely sporadic) but I hope you enjoy it.

Harry was on his way back from detention in the dungeons (Snape, despite no longer being the Potions Master, was a twat plain and simple) when he heard it.

" _Cold... ssso c-c-cold..._ "

" _Hello?_ " hissed Harry. He lit his wand and peered into the darkest corners of the corridor. There, against the wall, was a gleaming black snake (Harry thought it might be a sunbeam snake, although he wasn't sure). It didn't look good at all, curled in on itself limply.

Harry sighed and hissed " _I'm going to pick you up, please don't bite me,_ " before reaching down and gently lifting the snake to his chest. The snake let out a miserable hiss, lifting its head slightly before drooping back down. Harry arranged it to rest around his neck and shoulder, just under his robe and made his way back to Gryffindor tower.

"Harry!" called Ron, his best friend and fellow sixth-year dorm mate, as Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the Common Room. "How was detention? Err, what's with the snake?" he asked.

"Detention was awful, as usual," replied Harry. "And I found him freezing to death down in the dungeons. Probably got out of the Slytherin Common Room somehow and couldn't get back in."

"Hmph," snorted Ron. "You know they won't thank you for it. If they can't be arsed to look after their pets, that's on them" he cautioned.

"I know," said Harry, "but it's not the snake's fault."

This sort of thing had been happening more and more frequently throughout the year. Since the defeat of Lord Voldemort by his supposed relative, Thomas Gaunt, snakes had become very popular. It led to an influx of (mostly Slytherin) students returning after the Christmas holiday with a pet snake. Sadly, as was the way with most fads, some students had rushed out to get a snake with no real idea of how to care for them. Which meant Harry, with his bleeding heart, couldn't just abandon the poor things when they sought him out.

The next morning he sat at the Gryffindor table with the snake, who was much more animated and trying to snatch sausages from Ron's plate when he wasn't looking. An owl fluttered down in front of them, squawked at the sight of the snake, and hopped backwards. It landed in Hermione's bowl of porridge.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" exclaimed Hermione. Ron guffawed, then choked on his food and started coughing to clear his throat. Hermione Vanished her bowl and retrieved the newspaper the owl carried. It flew off as soon as it was able. Grabbing a piece of toast, she unrolled the paper and absentmindedly chewed as she read.

"Anything interesting?" asked Harry after a few moments.

"More of the same. It sounds like Thomas Gaunt is going to be made Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge."

"Well, that's hardly surprising," commented Ron. "He was almost ousted when news broke about Voldemort's return. He's desperate to get people back on his side. Kissing up to the Defeater of the Dark Lord should do it."

"Rather him than me," said Harry. "Dumbledore is missing again."

"He's probably trying to prevent this if it's true," noted Hermione, gesturing with the newspaper. "Is he still claiming Thomas Gaunt is Lord Voldemort?" she asked.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "He's adamant that I still need those lessons, whatever they are, but he's been gone so much that we haven't started them yet. I'm beginning to think we never will." He took one last swig of his tea, grabbed his bag and stood up. "Right, best get this over with."

He strode over to the end of the Slytherin table, cast a Sonorous charm on himself and held the snake aloft. "Oi," he called. Collectively the Slytherins and Ravenclaws nearest to him winced. Most of the students in the Great Hall turned to watch. He cancelled the charm. "Whose snake is this?"

"That's _my_ snake!" called a third-year halfway down the table, rising to stand. "Give him back!"

"Gladly," said Harry as he headed towards them. He made to lower the snake, only to raise him back up. " _If_ you promise to take care of him from now on. I found him almost frozen to death. Don't you know anything about snakes?"

"Of course I do!" piped up the third year. "Now give him back. Deathwinder doesn't like _Gryffindorks_ ".

"Well, _Deathwinder_ prefers to go by Jeff. And he needs a charmed heating rock to rest on. Here," said Harry as he handed the snake back. He rummaged through his bag, pulled out a pamphlet on snake care (Hermione's parents had owled them in from the Muggle world) and handed it to the student too. "If this keeps happening I'm going to start charging," warned Harry over his shoulder as he walked away.

As if a spell had been broken, the rest of the students went back to chatting and getting ready for class. Harry met Ron and Hermione at the door and they made their way to Transfiguration together.

"Does that snake really prefer to be called Jeff?" Hermione asked with a knowing glint in her eye.

"No clue," said Harry airily. Ron barked out a laugh as Hermione admonished him. "He just struck me as a Jeff. Snakes don't really give themselves names, you know."

"That's not a bad idea," Ron mused.

"What isn't?" asked Hermione.

"Harry, charging others for parseltongue translations," he joked. "There you go, Harry, you know what to do when we graduate, now being an Auror is out of the cauldron."

 _He's right_ , thought Harry, amidst the hubbub of his classmates settling down for their first lesson. _That's not a bad idea at all..._


	3. Chapter 3

"That was all he said?" asked Hermione, cradling her cup of tea and peering at Harry as if she could solve the mystery if she just stared at him long enough. Her hair was tied into a neat bun with a few curly tendrils framing her face. She wore smart, dark plum robes and looked otherwise well put together, despite the ink splotches on her right hand. She must have been scribbling furiously before she met up with him.

"That was it," Harry said. He took a sip of his tea and glanced at the clock on the wall. They were sat at a rickety table in the Ministry's canteen. A group from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad were sat laughing and joking a few tables over. An Unspeakable sat in the far corner, nursing a smoking flask that occasionally shot off yellow sparks. Two goblins and a witch occupied another table, speaking rapid Gobbledegook and gesturing wildly. A couple of other Ministry personnel were by themselves, writing onto scrolls of parchment or reading through files, drinks and snacks forgotten. The clock read a quarter-to three.

Mrs Howell hadn't been pleased that Harry would have to leave work early that day, but she could hardly contest. It hadn't been the first time Harry had been hassled at work. In his first year there, many people had come to gape at the Boy-Who-Lived working in a pet shop. Most were relatively harmless, asking for autographs or about the Triwizard Tournament. Some were rude and mocked him for his lowly position. More than one reporter had badgered for his opinion on the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Mrs Howell had swept those people out of the shop with harsh words and stern glares (and on one occasion, she had snatched the camera from one man's hands, thrown it out onto the alley, and locked the door once he ran outside to fetch it). Harry had taken to draping the snakes on his shoulders to deter most of them. Soon the novelty wore off and Harry could work in peace, for the most part.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. You'd better get up there and see what he wants. You know he doesn't like to be kept waiting" advised Hermione. Nodding, Harry stood and left the canteen, heading towards the office of the Senior Undersecretary. After a short journey in the elevator, Harry knocked on the door.

"Enter. Ah, Harry, right on time for once" said Thomas Gaunt. He was a tall, handsome man with pale skin, jet black hair and dark eyes. As always, he was dressed impeccably in expensive robes.

Harry threw himself into the seat in front of the desk inelegantly and slouched down in the way he knew Thomas hated. "You know, you could've just sent an owl if you wanted to see me so badly," said Harry blandly.

"I have a favour to ask," demurred Thomas. "Also, Pucey was getting on my nerves so I sent him to annoy you, too."

"Charming. What do you want?"

Thomas smiled, in the same way that meant he was on track to beat Gilderoy Lockhart's record for winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. "I'll be in Berlin this weekend for the International Confederation of Wizards, would you please look after Nagini for me?"

"Absolutely not!" cried Harry. "Also, you prick! I thought this was something serious. I even took the afternoon off work."

"It _is_ serious," rebutted Thomas. "You know you're the only person who can adequately care for her. I'm not going to leave her in some minion's dubious care. Nagini deserves the best. That's certainly not Pucey or his ilk."

"But it's my birthday this weekend," Harry whined. "I'm busy."

"It's not your birthday until Tuesday, I'll be back by then, and she won't cause you any trouble" wheedled Thomas.

"The Weasleys are throwing me a party this Saturday. I can't take her there! Are you mad?"

"Why not?"

"Tom, she almost killed Arthur!"

"Don't call me Tom, _Har_ " warned Thomas icily, eyes narrowed. After a moment, he smoothed out his expression and sat back in his chair. Softly, he added: "You know that wasn't Nagini's fault, not really."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "But I still can't take her there."

"Then you can have the Weasleys throw your party at my house, just try not to destroy it beyond reason," said Thomas. He stood up and grabbed a small suitcase with his left hand whilst fiddling with an old fountain pen in his right hand.

"Oh, alright then," sighed Harry, resigned to snake-sitting for the weekend. Thomas shot him a smaller, more honest smile. Harry felt his own lips turn upwards despite himself. "When do you leave?"

"About now," said Thomas brightly, and with a wink, the fountain pen Portkey whisked him away, Harry's shout of "You bastard!" ringing in his ears. In revenge, Harry rifled through his filing cabinet and mixed up several of the sheets. Then, he pushed Thomas' desk and chair just an inch to the left and charmed his quills to turn into chopsticks when touched.

" _Alright Nagini, you can come out now_ " hissed Harry.

Nagini slithered out from under the chaise lounge under the false window to Harry's right, tongue flickering. " _You have rabbits?_ " she asked.

" _Yeah, yeah, I'll get you your rabbits_ " grumbled Harry.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry sipped his goblet of mead as he half-listened to the conversation Hermione was having with Amelia Bones about her career-goals after Hogwarts. Slughorn's annual Christmas party was as ostentatious as the man himself. The room was draped with the same lavish hangings as last year. Real fairies were fluttering about amongst the ornate, medieval chandelier, showing off their bright colours with gusto. The ebb and flow of conversation, laughter and live music reverberated throughout the crowded room. Harry deftly grabbed a mini quiche from a nearby platter that presumably had a house-elf underneath it, and tuned back into the conversation just in time.

"Well, I've no doubt you'll do splendidly, Hermione. You're very talented and your predicted NEWTS are impressive. I've no doubt you will be a boon to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." said Amelia, before she turned to Harry and asked, "Are you planning on joining the Ministry, too, Harry?"

"No, I'm not" replied Harry with a shake of his head. "I'm planning on working with magical creatures."

"Surely not, Harry m'boy!" cried Slughorn, appearing at Harry's side as suddenly as if he'd apparated. "You could go much farther in the Ministry, you know. Oh, Thomas! Perhaps you can convince young Harry, here. It'd be such a shame for him not to reach his potential!" 

With a skill that Harry thought had to be some sort of dark magic, he seemed to summon the exact person he wished for from the crowd and introduced him with a flourish. "Harry, Hermione, this is Thomas Gaunt, defeater of You-Know-Who and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Thomas, you know Amelia already, of course," said Slughorn, before gesturing at Hermione. "This is our Head, Girl Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter needs no introduction" chortled Slughorn.

"A pleasure to meet you all," said Thomas. He was tall and pale, with dark eyes and darker, neatly styled hair. He wore midnight blue robes with silver accents in a stylish cut, more closely resembling a three-piece suit. He cut a sharp contrast to the older warlocks at the party; Harry had spotted several younger wizards mimicking the same modern style, but none of them pulled it off as well as Thomas did. He radiated an aura of authority, but his genial smile seemed to put people at ease and draw them in. He peered at Harry in curiosity. "What magical creatures are you planning on working with?"

"I'm going to be working in the Magical Menagerie to get some experience, so most common magical pets and familiars. However, I'll be focusing on snakes mostly. I want to start a business that will provide proper care, and ethical practices for breeding and harvesting potion ingredients" replied Harry. He cocked his head to the side and added: "I suppose I should thank you actually, you've had a very positive impact on their popularity."

"You're welcome," said Thomas, smiling. "What draws you to snakes?"

"Oh, don't you know, Thomas? Harry here is our resident snake whisperer. He's been helping our younger students take care of their pet snakes all year. Should've been in Slytherin, but I can see why the hat went the other way" said Slughorn, regarding Harry fondly, before adding reproachfully "I urge you to reconsider, Harry, you could be a Department head one day."

"Come now, Horace, the Ministry is a fine institution but it's not for everyone," said Dumbledore. Much like Slughorn, he seemed to appear from thin air. Harry wasn't sure how he'd missed him, as he was wearing bright red and gold robes and a pair of novelty reindeer antlers were perched on his head. He noticed Thomas quickly disguise his grimace by taking a large sip from his champagne flute.

"I doubt I'd last long there anyway, I've not got the best track record for following rules" added Harry. Slughorn, Dumbledore and Amelia Bones laughed and Hermione shot him an exasperatedly fond look.

"I think it's a sound idea," said Thomas, gesturing his champagne flute towards Harry. "I may have to travel at short notice for work and I'd much prefer leaving my snake in the care of another parselmouth." 

"Ah yes, the French Minister is pushing for a summit to discuss how emerging muggle technology is a risk to the Statute of Secrecy," commented Amelia. "I've no doubt Cornelius will want you to go in his stead, Thomas. He's not well versed with modern muggle culture."

"I've been trying to encourage the Minister to attend. His presence could be imperative to the summit's success, we need to send a message that this is a serious issue," replied Thomas. 

"Why, Tom, I hardly think it's as threatening as you seem to think" countered Dumbledore merrily.

An annoyed frown crossed Thomas' face as he said "Please address me as Thomas, Headmaster. You know by now that I dislike nicknames. And in just the 20th century alone, muggle technology has developed exponentially and revolutionised their society almost beyond recognition. Our laws have not kept up, we must review and implement counter-measures to protect the Statute."

"... He's right," said Harry. As one, the group seemed to turn to him. Dumbledore gazed at him consideringly whereas Thomas shot him a surprised, pleased look. Harry rushed to explain "I visited Hermione last summer and her parents had recently bought a computer... and they had it connected to the internet..." Amelia, Slughorn and Dumbledore looked at him blankly. He shot a panicked glance to Hermione, who took it in stride and started explaining "So, imagine you need to send an owl to the other side of the world..."

"Thanks," said Thomas quietly, shooting Harry a smile.

"What for?" asked Harry.

"For backing me up," said Thomas. He glanced at Dumbledore, before looking back at Harry and confiding in a hiss " _He doesn't like me much._ "

" _Ah, well you just need to sell out some of his old students to a Dark Lord and then beg his forgiveness once they're murdered. It worked for Snape,_ " hissed Harry. Thomas let out a shocked laugh before he clapped a hand to his mouth, eyes wide with horrified amusement. Harry shot him a roguish grin.

Thomas smirked back. "So Harry, how much do you charge for snake-sitting?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't qute get this chapter the way I wanted so this will have to do. On the plus side, I have a rough outline for the remaining chapters so the plot should start moving along more from here on out.


End file.
